


Rite

by Bunsuu



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Nymphs - Freeform, Other, Woes series drabble, satyrs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3546665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunsuu/pseuds/Bunsuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble following QuietShadow's woes series mythology AU! (Featured in 28 Woes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winners and...Losers?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quiet_Shadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/gifts).
  * Inspired by [28 Woes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702555) by [Quiet_Shadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow). 



There were only seven megacycles left. Sentinel would compulsively look out the window every other breem, methodically tracking the star's movement as he internally counted how many joors were left until he would be... well, quite literally fragged. It wasn't long before Alpha Trion noticed the nymph's obsession. The determination that the blue 'bot had while faced with certain 'doom' was both amusing and endearing to the old king. On the fourth morning he found Sentinel peering up at their star he told the nymph that because he seemed to be so concerned with punctuality that he would obey tradition to its' fullest extent. That meant, intead of simply taking his prize as soon as Hadeen set and calling it fair he would wait until the full moon would be at its' peak in the night sky. Now the Nymph had a few extra joors before being whisked to Trion's chambers to be defiled. Sentinel had merely regarded him with a feigned look of confidence and turned back towards the windowsill, in a loud voice Sentinel stated that he knew his father would come for him. He sounded hopeful, but, there was an obvious quaver in his voice though he tried desperately to hide it. 

Each megacycle after that felt like a blur to Sentinel. Finally, the star set on the third day and only a joor and a half remained until the grace period expired and he would be at the 'tender' mercies of the Satyr king. The tension was thick in the air around the bound nymph at Alpha Trion's side; the king was excited and kept stealing quick glances at the untouched 'bot next to him. Sentinel, however, looked fidgety and anxious as he looked anywhere but at the Satyr king. Half the joor went by like this, until there was a loud commotion outside the large wooded doors leading to the hall. With a loud bang they flew wide open to reveal a small mech with a bloodied sword in his right servo. Alpha Trion immediately recognized this stranger to be one of the Nymphs who had been with Sentinel on the beach. Obviously, he had fought his way through anyone who had tried to stop him... or had tried to lift that short skirt that he wore for the purpose of having agility whilst in battle.

"Optimus--!" Sentinel cried out, relief evident in his voice.

"Welcome, young one. Does your sire know you are here? Good little Nymphs don't go running around with a sword in servo on the night of a full moon. Especially in my territory." The king sat back in his throne, impressed that the little thing had managed to take on so many guards and potential 'lovers' all by himself.

"My sire will know, if he doesn't already know I'm gone. I'm here for my brother! Give him back, you hooved ruffian!" Optimus' voice was loud, his blue optics glaring unwaveringly at the whiskered king before him.

"You came here against his wishes? For what reason?" Trion was genuinely surprised, most Nymphs would never lay a pede in Satyr territory unguarded, and even fewer would willingly come close to their dwellings, even to 'save' another Nymph.

"I'm tired of losing my siblings to your horny subjects' dirty servos and not be able to even try and rescue them! I hate how my sire never goes to save my kin who have been taken by you Satyrs to be plundered and tainted!" Ah, so the little Nymph was frustrated. 

The king immediately beckoned a maid over, whispering something in their audial to which they nodded and left the room in a dash. 

Turning back to Optimus, Alpha Trion smiled. "I see. Well, you want your brother's freedom, yes? How about we have a little wager then, hmm? If you win, I will let you and Sentinel return to your sire's domain without anyone touching you."

"And if you win?" Optimus was certainly smart to ask.

"If I win, then I will keep Sentinel and you will go to one of my subjects. However, they will not have to wait a full rotation of the moon to take posession of your... purity."

The blade-wielding Nymph visibly tensed, but still held his ground. "What is this wager?"

"That if you are able to defeat my strongest warrior by incapacitating him by the time the first bell tolls at midnight, you win the wager. Now, if you are unable to do so by the first toll, I will win." Alpha Trion smiled benignly down at Optimus from the king's throne. 

"...I accept your challenge." Optimus had no choice, time was running out and the faster they could leave the better. 

"My lord." The maid returned with a large, intimidating Satyr standing at their side. Obviously, this was the 'warrior'. 

"King Trion," Curtly, the large 'bot bowed to Trion with a stony expression on his faceplates. "You have asked for my presence?" 

"Indeed. Optimus, correct? Allow me to introduce you to Megatron. Megatron, this little Nymph here has agreed to a little gamble between him and I. I would like you to engage Optimus in a duel. If he has you defenseless as the first bell rings at midnight he wins, and if you do the same or hold him off for that amount of time his spark and frame are yours to do as you please." 

Megatron vented derisively, unsheathing one of the two swords on his back. 

"As you wish, my king."

"You have half an hour," Alpha Trion got comfortable in his throne with a smile. "Take your positions."

They both moved to the opposite sides of the room and faced one another as they stood ready to battle, Optimus glaring fiercely and Megatron's expression impassive. 

"And... begin." 

At first neither of them moved more than a couple steps forward, optics locked on the other's frame, observing one another silently. It was Optimus who moved first, boldly darting towards the larger frame as he raised his servos, about to strike. With a quick sidestep Megatron dodged the Nymph's blade and countered with his own swipe at the lithe form. To Megatron's astonishment, Optimus readily blocked him and turned around to face his opponent. Why, the little thing had looked so fragile when he first laid eyes upon the Nymph! He wasn't expecting this to be a 'challenge', but...

... it seemed that this 'Optimus' was full of surprises. 

Together they could almost be mistaken for performers. Sentinel mused that if he didn't know any better, he would percieve their duel as some form of elegant dance. Even with the size despairity between them, Optimus held his own and amazingly disarmed Megatron once for each time the Satyr would do the same to him. The little Nymph valiantly put his entire spark into every movement, block, and attack for the sake of who he called bretheren. Megatron was intrigued and vaguely impressed by the intrepidty of this mech, who by all accounts was at a severe disadvantage in fighting the Satyr's finest warrior. Even so, Optimus matched him nearly blow for blow, giving Megatron more of a challenge than anyone he fought that he could recall. Regardless, Megatron hadn't found anything entertaining in a long time... until now. Perhaps one solar cycle he could battle this 'bot again?

With a swift servo, Megatron knocked the blade from Optimus' small, azure servos. The sword skidded across the stone floor and came to a halt a good distance away from the two combatants. Panicking, Optimus lunged for his weapon, knowing that time was not on his side. The Satyr reflexively grabbed Optimus by the back of the shirt, halting the Nymph's desperate attempt to escape. As if on purpose, the clock struck midnight, the loud chimes seemed to stop time itself within the Satyr king's hall. 

"I'm afraid you've lost, Optimus. It was fun," Optimus didn't respond, his faceplates pale and chassis shaking. "Megatron, Optimus is yours to do whatever you please. " 

"Sentinel, sweetspark..." The Nymph stiffened and shivered at the Satyr's dulcet coo.

Oh, Primus...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to write. I may or may not have some other 'Woes Series' tributes being drafted.  
> >>  
> 

Alpha Trion rose to his pedes and over to where Sentinel was bound. In the background, the shackled Nymph could hear Optimus make an undignified noise followed by him demanding to be sat down and allowed to walk on his own followed by heavy footsteps that gradually decreased in volume until the doors slammed shut, leaving Sentinel in the uncomfortably silent royal hall with the Satyr king. 

"That Megatron is an odd one. He probably prefers battle to any other 'physical activity', but, I think that he may have found someone who satisfies both his lust for challenges and his... more physical ones as well, if the way he looked at your sibling whilst in battle is anything to go by." The king chuckled, insufferably candid as per usual. 

"He deserves to be defiled by that beast." Sentinel glowered, more than a little frustrated due to Optimus' failure to defeat the warrior.

"Such a sharp glossa! Luckily for you I quite... enjoy spirited 'bots."

The Nymph was thrown unceremoniously over the king's shoulder again, his cuffed servos dangling strutlessly behind his captor's back. One of the lech's servos rested 'innocently' but firmly upon his aft as he was carried from the throne room and deeper inside the red mech's dwellings. Soon, they came to the doors to the Satyr's berth chamber, which Sentinel dearly didn't want to see the inside of. But the doors were opened and Alpha Trion carried him inside regardless; the heavy scent of wood, incense, and something the Nymph didn't want to know of tickled his olfactory sensors and made him squirm. Trion turned to lock the door, purposely giving Sentinel a good look at the large and luxurious-looking berth. In another situation, Sentinel would be happy to willingly crawl onto the berth and perhaps recharge a while. As it stood, however, Alpha Trion would be immensely more 'happy' to help him get 'comfortable' on it. 

Sentinel was carried over to the forboding piece of furniture and gently tossed upon its' soft surface. Of course, Sentinel scrambled backwards as far as he could go, fear blooming within his spark. The Satyr king followed him onto the berth, laughing merrily at the Nymph's panicked flailing. Catching one of his berth partner's ankles, Trion pulled Sentinel down towards him and ground their lower halves together. The obvious bulge being rubbed against the Nymph's array through the dress he wore made Sentinel heat up and try harder to escape. 

"Now sweetspark, you're mine to do as I please with. You needn't be so frightened, I won't harm you." Even this statement was almost gleeful as he reached up and patted Sentinel on the helm. 

A servo slid up his inner thighs, beneath the hem of his gown that was pooled around the trembling limbs. It slid up and up, slowly as if Alpha Trion were savoring the moment, revealing more and more of his frame as the skirt was pushed along with the servo. Finally, it found what it was searching for; Sentinel shivered when the tips of the king's fingers brushed the outer folds of his shamefully already-wet valve. Trion's optics narrowed and he smirked, moving his servo up further to cup the leaking port. Looking up at the pretty thing's faceplates, Trion massaged the valve with expert fingers. Immediately, Sentinel gasped and mewled quietly, his wide blue optics fixated on the bulge of the Satyr's servo concealed by his dress. 

That infectious warmth seemed to spread through Sentinel's entire frame, shattering any semblance of coherent thought. His world consisted of only him and Alpha Trion for a moment before the rest of the world returned, though almost fuzzy. Leering at the unexperienced bot's reactions, Alpha Trion raised the skirt up to the waist, fully exposing the pretty gray folds to the air as he moved his servo away from the warm equipment. Untouched and yet responsive. Trion really loved deflowering Nymphs. Giving Sentinel a devilish grin, he suddenly dove down and buried his faceplates between Sentinel's thighs, giving the valve a lick from the bottom of the rim and up to the top. Within a microklik Sentinel's shackled servos flew down to the King's helm, holding on tightly to the old mech's horns as his back arched off the surface of the berth. A long keen escaped between Sentinel's agape derma as his optics unfocused. 

The Satyr wasted no time, lapping hungrily at the valve folds and suckling at the adorably orange exterior node crowning the rim. Sentinel shrieked and sobbed as he lost himself to the sensation of that glossa tending generously to his port, pleasure making him feel hot and desperate as the strange sensation of something coiling tight within him drove his charge higher. When Trion's glossa sneaked into the opening of his port Sentinel came undone, howling as overload took him. Surprised but not at all complaining, the king greedily swallowed all of the lubricant gushing out of the valve as he could. Once the overload was over, Sentinel panted and sobbed, the first release he had ever experienced making him feel sluggish. 

"You taste very good, my sweetspark," Sentinel nearly sobbed again at those words. "I still need to prepare you though. I don't want to hurt you, Sentinel."

Trion first slid the dress up and off of the Nymph's lax frame before removing his own loincloth. Sentinel caught sight of the Satyr's cord and paled with terror. 

"Let go of me!" Sentinel's plea was ignored by Trion, who merely chuckled and ducked down again, this time wriggling his glossa deep into the virgin valve. 

Overcome with sensation, the Nymph groaned and bucked needily towards the king's intake. Precision was the Satyr's forte when it came to preparing berth partners; it came with vorns of practice. Trion stretched the valve as best he could, greedily lapping up the globs of lubricant that gushed from the opening. Sentinel writhed beneath his servos and glossa, pedes shakily kicking at air as the Nymph's stuttered curses and whines filled the room. By the time Sentinel felt ready to be entered, the tension within Alpha Trion had built to an almost unbearable level. He looked up to Sentinel's flushed faceplates again, taking depraved delight in how debauched Sentinel looked. Oral lubricant had dribbled from the corner of his derma and his optics were a deeper shade of cerulean than they normally were, glazed and unfocused.

Grinning, Alpha Trion muttered the word "Precious..." before claiming those ashen derma in a devouring kiss. 

With hot and heavy servos, Trion slid the dress further up, breaking the kiss to pull the fine cloth over the Nymph's helm. He oogled the blue and titian frame unbashedly, discarding the dress off to the side of the berth. Now, this was where the real fun would begin. Trion's spike grew hotter in anticipation, optics ablaze with a hunger that wouldn't be easy to sate. Gentle servos grabbed Sentinel's thighs, parting them wide around his own pelvic area. Broken protests were whimpered by the Nymph, though in this situation Sentinel found he could not lift a finger to dissuade the lecherous king any longer. The spike's tip was aligned with his untouched port, the sensation of slick valve folds parting around the head of the spike making them both shiver in excitement.

Holding onto the berthsheets for dear life, Sentinel grimaced anxiously peering at the king's girth settled between his obscenely wide-spread legs. Slowly, Alpha Trion pressed inside; savoring the moment. Heat enveloped the tip welcomingly, eagerly. Sentinel arched off the berth and yelped as each ridge progressed inside. He hadn't been prepared for it to feel as... good as it did, the stretch kind of uncomfortable but bearable. Time seemingly stretched on forever as the old king seated his cord within Sentinel's port; when Trion's hips rested firmly against the Nymph's own did he look down to see where they had joined. Where he was no longer untouched, no longer pure. The folds of his valve were dilated around the base of the Satyr's spike, his own lubricant rolled down what little of it he could see. Part of him felt revolted and yet another piece of him was whispering pleas for more. 

Alpha Trion moaned lowly and quickly ducked down to Sentinel's faceplates, capturing the Nymph's derma in hungry kisses. At the same time, the king began rocking back and forth, small circles that stirred sensors alight with pleasure that Sentinel wasn't aware of having inside of him. Mewling into Alpha Trion's intake, Sentinel unconsciously began to move his hips with Trion's pace and his own glossa tentatively twitched against the invading counterpart. He felt almost sickly, or perhaps anxious; his neural net was buzzing with what felt like molten desire that left him craving more. Somehow, Alpha Trion seemed to sense the Nymph's thoughts and moved faster, harder, as their kiss deepened and became more sultry. Sentinel keened into the Satyr king's derma as he experienced an overload even stronger than the last. 

As the valve fluttered around his length, Trion groaned decadently and overloaded; he pressed himself flush to Sentinel's trembling form, making sure to absolutely coat this lovely little valve, to devour this Nymph's sweet, sweet innocence. Besides, Sentinel still had much to learn about interfacing. He had waited so long to take this Nymph; a single overload was not even close to being enough. Well, since he waited the full lunar cycle before so much as seeing the 'bot writhe on his cord, the Satyr king can take his time enjoying the cerulean frame to its' fullest. 

After the last of Alpha Trion's fluid was stuffed inside of Sentinel's port, the elder bot drew himself from the still-warm valve. The Nymph squirmed a little, it felt weird to be empty after being so full. Trion crawled further upwards, over Sentinel's prone frame like a beast going in for a bite of its' newest meal. Chestplate being straddled by the Satyr, Sentinel looked up at him questioningly. Already, Trion noted with contained giddiness, Sentinel's field contained a twinge of renewed want that made his spike partially re-pressurize. 

Cupping Sentinel's cheekplate with one servo, Trion placed a disturbingly chaste kiss upon the top of his helm. His thumb slid inward to tug gently at the corner of Sentinel's intake. Hesitatingly, Sentinel allowed the digit to enter between his derma. Alpha Trion's attention zeroed in on the pretty Nymph whose innocence he had plundered's intake; carnal, lusty desire glazed over the Satyr's optics. Soon afterward Trion found himself opening up Sentinel's intake almost torturously slowly. Surprisingly, Sentinel yielded to his handling, his flushed faceplates alluring to the king. The scent of fresh lubricant filled the room; it seemed the Nymph was eager for more. Trion chuckled and pulled Sentinel's faceplates to his array, the head of his re-pressurized spike positioned directly in front of Sentinel's obediently waiting intake.

Who was he to disappoint?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> The smuts shall be tomorrow. I am sleepy atm...


End file.
